The Better Life
by Xx Girl With Issues xX
Summary: Set after "Blood, Sugar, Sex, and Magic." Dave's lost his job and his darkest secret has been revealed. What next?


Title: The Better Life ****

Title: The Better Life

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Author: Girl with Issues

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E-Mail: [Buffy38841@aol.com][1] or [AngieMcKendrick@aol.com][2]

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Rating: PG-13 - R

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Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Timeline: Set right after "Blood, Sugar, Sex, and Magic"

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Summary: Dave angst. He's been fired, his secret has been revealed, what next?

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Author's Notes: Yo! Just saw this episode, got an idea, and now am sharing it with you, the lovely reader. Review and enjoy.

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I have a kid to support.

The conversation played over and over in Dave Malucci's mind, but it was this sentence that echoed the loudest.

He couldn't believe that he'd told Kerry, told everyone, his deepest (and in a way darkest) secret. 

But, what he'd said earlier still stood true: Kerry knew _nothing _about him; no one in that damned hospital did. However, no matter how much he hated the job, he needed the money, and his child needed the money. He'd made a promise to the mother that'd he share custody as well as any costs. He wasn't just doing it to look good either; he was doing it for his kid. And he would do anything for his son.

Anything…

Dave stood at the ER doors, anger and adrenaline still pulsing through his system. After a few minutes, he chanced a look through the bay doors. The scene he looked in on was unusually serene. Doctors and nurses skirted about, doing their jobs.

The anger over his dream slipping away began to well up again, and Dave turned away from the hospital, looking for an outlet. As he turned towards the bike rack, he focused in on his target.

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With a final, strained groan, Dave heaved the remains of his ruined bicycle into a Dumpster.

For one wild, crazed second, Dave thought about tossing his stethoscope in as well, in a kind of ceremony, but as his touched his neck, he realized it was gone, probably lost for good.

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Whatever.

As he wiped his oily hands on his scrub top, Dave realized that he didn't care much about his bike anymore, he didn't really even care that much about his job.

And contrary to popular belief, he didn't care that much about himself.

He had priorities, and right now, being Chicago's biggest hotshot doctor definitely wasn't one of them.

Right now, that wasn't him, and that wasn't his life. In reality, his life was totally different; he had a better life. 

With a disgusted scoff, Dave turned from the Dumpster. Who the hell was he trying to kid? His life sucked, no matter how you cut it.

Then slowly, it dawned on him: this really _wasn't _his life. The small, one-bedroom apartment, the many, nameless, faceless women, the forgotten, drunken nights. He did have the better life. It just wasn't here in Chicago. 

Glancing at his watch, he turned and ran for the train station. 

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I might just make it…

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His apartment was dark, everything inside silent and unmoving. His locker stayed locked and untouched, all his things preserved. His stethoscope lay on the ER floor along with his Cook Country resident's ID, kicked under the admit desk, first knocked to the floor by Weaver, again on the warpath. 

Didn't matter to him. All that mattered now was the future - and his better life.

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Self-consciously, Dave tugged at the constricting tie at his neck, before giving his newly cut hair a final glance in the car's small side mirror.

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This is it…

The house sat in front of him, modest, yet inviting at the same time. 

The sight pacified him and Dave got out of the car, and moved towards the house, afraid that if he didn't do it now, it would never be done.

After a couple minutes of stalling, Dave pressed the small, round doorbell, and was again comforted, this time by the sweet ringing of chimes.

It seemed to Dave like an eternity passed, and as it did, Dave thought. He thought about his old life, his old job. His thoughts quickly turned to his son, which dissolved into thoughts of his father. Almost unconsciously, he clenched his fists, vowing never to hurt anyone, especially his own son like that.

His mindframe was shattered as the door was pulled open. There stood a woman, in her mid-20s. Her eyes widened, but as she opened her mouth to speak, a young boy around age 6, Italian background evident in his dark, handsome child-features, pushed his way in front of the woman.

As the child looked into the face that was so much like his own, he spoke but one word: 

"Daddy."

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A/N: That's it…hope you like it, reviews are good. Oh, and go read "In the End," the last chapter and its sequel are coming soon. Also, go click on my name, go to my FF.Net profile and read my short Dave-angst "Grievances." I put it out a while ago, but only got a few reviews.

One last time: My updating might be even slower than usual, because my sister broke the A:/ drive on my computer and I can't save anything. This is being written at school, to be posted later. 

REVIEW MY STORIES!

   [1]: mailto:Buffy38841@aol.com
   [2]: mailto:AngieMcKendrick@aol.com



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